The Barrier Reef Lives Up To Its Name
Trip Start
Nov 08, 2003
1
42
74
Trip End
Oct 22, 2004
The Great Barrier Reef,
Australia
Thursday, August 12, 2004
2,000 islands, 3,000 reefs, 1,250 miles long, 135,000 square miles big and containing over 2,000 species of fish. This could mean only one thing . . .
No, not Roman Abramovich's private stretch of ocean but The Great Barrier Reef, and today we'd be taking an underwater peak at just three of those reefs.
We arrived at Port Douglas marina at 8am and checked in at QuickSilver and received our boarding passes for the day before heading down to the quayside. Our catamaran stood in the harbour being prepared by uniformed staff as we sat there waiting excitedly along with a few other eager beavers of the day-tripper kind.
Everything seemed routine until the surreal sight of Shrek and Princess Fiona walked down the gangplank and onto the bow of the boat
Dive Gear at the Ready
. Well we didn't know it was a fancy dress trip. Suddenly the Director appeared clutching a camcorder and all became clear. They were shooting a promotional video but what we didn't see coming was the fact that today's tourists were going to be the co-stars. After they'd filmed the love scene it was now time for the crowd scene and we were all ushered down to the boat to line the walkway. We were given our lines: "smile", and the camera rolled as the newlyweds shimmied along between the staff and tourists and on to the boat. It has to be said that me and the brunette were in prime centre-stage positions and gave wonderful performances. It'll be a straight to promotional video smash.
Once the end credits were rolling we were now allowed onto the boat, and a big one it was at that. The thirty or so day-trippers were to be looked after by about ten staff, a pretty good ratio, and their first job was to serve us tea and biscuits and a couple of seasickness tablets which they insisted on us taking.
We left the port at 8.30am and were soon hitting open seas and big swells as the boat bounced along at a rate of knots. There then came a short general briefing for the two types of tourist that were on the boat, the snobbish SCUBA divers and the humble snorkellers
Folk in the drink
. We were firmly in the humble camp and intending to snorkel until we heard how much the SCUBA was and at $62 (£26) for the first dive and $42 (£17) for subsequent ones we were taken hook, line and sinker. We had learnt to SCUBA in Thailand and loved it and now our thinking was that if we didn't do a dive in the Great Barrier Reef of all places then we probably wouldn't forgive ourselves.We signed on the dotted line of the medical form and joined four other daring souls in the pre-dive briefing. We sat through the flip-chart lesson once more to familiarise ourselves with the basics of how your lungs shrink to the size of a pea when you're ten metres below and the strange fact that if you rise to the surface too quickly you get a Mercedes-Benz. Or am I just being immature?
We were assigned number two dive group along with a little boy on his first dive and were being headed by Jay, a great hulk of blubbery Aussie straight-talking assertiveness.
We arrived at Agincourt Reef by 10.15 where the 15 other snorkellers received their own briefing on what to look out for, what not to touch and what to do in the event of a shark grabbing you by the leg
Going under
. They all then hesitantly plopped into the coral-studded clear blue sea followed closely by the first dive group. Due to safety measures we had to wait 30-40 minutes for the first group to come back before we could begin to bob along on the bottom on the beautiful briny sea in true Dick van Dyke fashion.Meanwhile we were offered the chance to have a bit of a snorkel as well while we waited so we got ourselves kitted up in high-seas high-fashion. A lovely bright blue skintight lycra suit was our base layer complete with hood and mittens leaving our faces as the only thing visible. After seven months of fine food and wine we looked greeeeeat. Teletubbie similarities aside, we wore them to protect ourselves from marine stingers in the shape of jellyfish and seawasps. Next on were the wetsuits for warmth and buoyancy and suddenly, with its belly shrinking qualities, we were transformed from Mr Bean to Mr Bond (and Pussy Galore).
We lowered ourselves into the shark-infested waters and donned our snorkels and masks for a twenty-minute preview of the main event. Luckily it was a nice sunny day which improved the vision and clarity of the fish and coral. Well what can we say? It was as expected from what we'd scene in Jacques Cousteau programmes and I could wax lyrical for paragraphs on colours and formations but I'm going to spare you
Hollywood comes to the reef
. Use your imagination, then double it.It had been impressive from the surface but we were now ready to enter the abyss. The first group came back looking suitably impressed and literally out-of-breath and now it was our turn to sit on the end of the sea-level jumping-off deck for a run through the three basic disciplines we'd need to learn. Although we were a pair of old pros we still had to perform the manouvres above and below the surface as our guide didn't have any proof of our previous dives.
We successfully completed the three skills of mask clearing, removal and insertion of mouthpiece and breathing from another air supply above sea-level and in no time we were descending into the deep via a rope where we stopped just under the surface to repeat the three principal actions until Jay was happy to continue.
Once formalities were over we carried on along the rope to the seabed which was surprisingly nearby considering we just spent an hour and three quarters to get here and we were now 30 miles out to sea. We now knelt on prehistoric hills that had been submerged by rising water levels after the melting of the Ice Age some 10,000 years ago (A slice of serious history to go with the complete drivel, can't be bad.)
Scattered around the ocean floor were velvety sea cucumbers which we petted and improvised with for Nathan, our roaming videographer who was busy filming our every move in a fruitless attempt to get us to buy the resulting DVD for a small fortune once the trip was over
Lady in Blue
. The filming later got to the extent that we were asked to do underwater tumbles and twists for the camera lens in order to make a better movie. I know our acting was Oscar-tastic for the Shrek promotional video but this was turning into Hollywood under the sea. Our agents would be hearing about this.Still, it was mightily impressive down there, and once again, for fear of going over the top by rubbing in our incredible fortune at diving on the Great Barrier Reef we won't go on and on and on and on . . . we'll just save it for when we get home.
Back in the boat and it was a ten-minute cruise to another reef and with a promise of better to come we signed up for a second dive and as we slowly lowered ourselves into the deep we were met by a massive welcoming committee of fish. For the next ten minutes we couldn't see each other for the fish as they swam up to our goggles for a closer look. It was a real rush-hour down there and in no time our oxygen was depleted due to the increase in sharp intakes of breath.
We surfaced once more after the dives of our lives and headed for a nice buffet spread lunch of fish which we obviously declined as our morals kicked in, but then our stomachs had a stern word with our morals and we tucked in to a fine array of fancy fishies
Looks inviting
.While we ate and compared watery notes the boat weighed anchor and headed to our third and final reef of the day, a large round multi-coloured fish-playground called the Bommie. For this reef we decided to remain on the surface and view the action via a snorkel and to be honest the reef was so shallow we saw just as much.
Back on board we downed another couple of seasickness tablets for the trip home and were shown the DVD of our dive. We'd been exploited like circus animals with our flips for the camera and at £40 we gave it a miss and settled for a couple of prints. The sea was even rougher on the return leg and at 4pm we pulled into the port and for fear of going clichÈ loopy, it was indeed another world down there and a once-in-a-lifetime trip.
Driving into Port Douglas we stopped off at a colourful restaurant called Mango Jam for gourmet pizzas and mango daiquiris and were served by an overly exuberant waitress whose every other word was 'beautiful', and walking through town the pubs and bars were packed with Kiwi and Anglo ex-pats watching the All Blacks giving our world chumps a first half pasting.
Our launch
It had been a 'flipping' exhausting but rewarding day for our bodies and our senses as we bedded down for the night back at the caravan park and were fast asleep by 9.30pm. It was one of those perfect days you wanted to bottle up and keep for years to come but was now set aside in our memory banks.
And on the melancholy note we'll bid ye farewell til the next leg of our Queensland journey . . .
The Codfather & Dory
xx
